


Temptation 101

by BreWitching



Category: Original Work
Genre: Age Difference, Daddy Issues, Daddy Kink, Dom/sub, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Rough Sex, Teacher-Student Relationship, college professor, single mother, university student
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-12
Updated: 2021-03-19
Packaged: 2021-03-20 14:07:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 14,160
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30006045
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BreWitching/pseuds/BreWitching
Summary: Sabrina is a young single mother desperately trying to hold onto her scholarship while juggling an infant daughter, a deadbeat boyfriend, money trouble, and the tempting chemistry between her and her Creative Writing Professor. Henry has always been professional, he loves his job, but this divorced heartthrob has never felt like this before, not even with his ex-wife.
Relationships: Student/Teacher - Relationship
Comments: 7
Kudos: 16





	1. One

**One**

THE STENCH OF TOO MUCH air freshener, cologne, and the barest hint of weed filled her nose. The mixture tickled at her gag reflex. Her senses had been heightened since her pregnancy, and even in her fourth month postpartum it was still just as sensitive. Sabrina sat across from her advisor, the drone of his voice was nothing but white noise. She had stopped listening after he insinuated that her new adventure into motherhood would get in the way of her college career. She knew she had to keep her grades at a certain level in order to keep her scholarship. Her scholarship was the one of the only reasons she could still afford college. The last thing she was going to do was let that slip. No one expects you to stick around when you suddenly turn up pregnant in your freshman year. 

Sabrina, by all appearances, was paying attention as he droned on. All in all, Mr. Harrow was nice enough, but he was also sexist, and didn’t think highly of the female population. Let alone a young mother desperately holding on to her scholarship for dear life.

“Thank you. I guess. Mr. Harrow, this has been enlightening.” She said in a flat voice, as she picked up her bag and exited his office. Outside in the hall she took a deep breath, happy to clear her lungs of the nauseating mixture of scents. Her shoulders slumped; she hoisted her bag higher on her shoulder. This year was going to be hard; every year was going to be hard. Sabrina had no illusions about that, but she was determined to give her daughter a good future. It wasn’t Rose’s fault that Sabrina had made an error in judgement.

Sabrina had never intended to be a young mother, in fact before she’d gotten pregnant with Rose, she hadn’t even been sure she wanted children at all. But accidents happen, and Rose was the most perfect gift in Sabrina’s crazy life. In fact, Rose was the only perfect thing about Sabrina’s life right now. 

—

Sabrina had retrieved Rose from her mother’s house, Sabrina’s mother was a registered nurse, and watched Rose when she could, but most of the time she was unavailable. Her mother was an amazing and compassionate person, and she put everything she had into the care of her patients. Sabrina looked up to her mother so much. So many times, her mother had let her know she could move back home if she needed to, but Sabrina didn’t want to burden her mother with more than she already had to. Being fiercely independent was both a blessing and a curse. Sabrina’s apartment wasn’t so bad, it certainly could have been worse. Sure, it was only one room, with a small kitchenette and a closet for a bathroom, but it was hers. Despite the chipping paint and the peeling floors, it was cozy, and worked just fine for her and Rose. The only time it was suffocating was when her boyfriend graced them with his presence.

Rose was swaddled tightly, sleeping content in her crib. Her eyelashes fluttering as she dreamed, her mouth twitching into a little grin. Sabrina sighed, her heart swelling with the love she felt for her baby girl. The TV across the way was flashing and the sound was too loud, but for the most part Rose was accustomed to sleeping through noise. She had to, with the limited space and quiet in their place. Sabrina’s boyfriend Cory was reclined on the couch asleep as well. Her tired eyes drank them both in, they were so content, and she was trying her best to hold it together. Everything about her, down to her soul, was exhausted. The fall semester started tomorrow, and she knew her exhaustion was only going to get worse. She would persevere through, one way or another.

Her fingers flew deftly over the keys of her old laptop, trying to squeeze as much out as she could before her daughter stirred from her slumber. She would wake with a ferocity soon; Sabrina’s swollen breasts could attest to her daughters looming hunger. They were tight and aching, sitting heavily on her chest. A crash from the TV made Sabrina wince, Rose shifted in her wrapping. “Not yet, baby girl, not yet please.” She whispered. She needed just a few more minutes. The first day of classes was tomorrow, but some of her professors had sent out early assignments. The last thing she needed was to make a bad first impression. 

Rose’s face pinched, her little mouth opened, a grunt coming out. Sabrina shut her eyes tightly, tears of frustration threatened to fall, but she swallowed them back. Sometimes she felt resentment for her situation, and she hated that it was the result of her daughter. It wasn’t her daughter’s fault, not in the slightest. It wasn’t right or fair for her to feel that towards or about her daughter. Frustration creates ugly feelings. Sabrina shoved those thoughts down, locking them away in a little box. She wasn’t going to let them get the best of her. As if her thoughts had changed the air in the room, Rose woke. Her piercing shriek rang in Sabrina’s ears. Times up.

She rose from her desk chair, making her way across the room in all of five steps. “Cory, I need you to change Rose.” No response. She huffed, blowing a wayward strand of hair out of her face. Cory was Rose’s father, the partner to the mess that was Sabrina’s life currently. One careless night at a party Freshman year had led them down this disjointed path together. Things had been great at first, he had been so caring and considerate. He had doted on Sabrina, convinced her that they would be a family. He had promised that he would help her every step of the way, be the father to Rose that Sabrina never had. Sabrina should have known better; she really should have. To that end though, Sabrina probably expected too much from Cory. He was the same age as her and had never had true responsibility in his life. His parents helped pay for everything, including bailing him out when he got in a bind. 

Ever since he’d realized exactly how much work went into a baby, he’d pretty much checked out. He was always out late with friends; he’d rather be partying and enjoying college life than stuck at home with a cranky infant. Which left it all to Sabrina. 

“Cory, wake up.” She shook him, a grumble was all she got. “Cory, please.” He smacked her hand away from his shoulder, “Yeah, yeah, in a minute, babe.”

It was no use, and she didn’t have the energy to fight with him. The pretty picture he had painted for her, about the future they would have was long gone. In its place was this disaster around her. The ragged couch she’d found out by the dumpsters near the dorms, a nightstand serving as a TV stand, and a TV she had saved up for, only for it to get dropped upon moving, and now have pixelated lines across the bottom of the screen. But it was all hers, she didn’t take handouts. She worked hard for everything she had or found a frugal way to attain it. 

She glared down at her boyfriend, mumbling to herself, “When was the last time you held her, let alone helped me?” She didn’t need an answer. She knew. And it hurt every time she thought about it. She knew the only reason he was even still around was because she was a habit he hadn’t kicked yet. It was only a matter of time before he stopped coming back. To be quite honest, she was anxious for that to happen. She didn’t want to force him away, he was Rose’s father after all, but she wouldn’t stop him if he gave up on them either. 

Rose’s cries raised an octave, she was mad. Angry and hungry. Sabrina ran a hand through her dirty tangled hair, at this point she wouldn’t have time for a shower. That wasn’t her priority though, her priority was always going to be Rose, and Rose was starving. Sabrina practically ran to her daughter’s swaddled form as she felt the tingle of her milk letting down. She didn’t have time to factor in more dirty laundry along with everything else…

“Shhh, sweet girl, you’re okay. Mommy’s got you. Mommy’s always got you.” Her voice was soft. She nuzzled her daughter's nose with her own. She let her daughter’s delicious scent fill her senses. To love something so much it hurt, was an incredible gift, she would be content if she never loved anything else ever again. 

The noise in the room was quickly accompanied by soft suckling noises. Rose was always most content in Sabrina’s arms, and Sabrina didn’t mind. With one arm cradling her baby girl, her other hand did its best to finish her assignment. It was going to be a long night; of that she was already sure.


	2. Two

**Two**

THE ARIZONA SUNRISE WAS SOMETHING truly magical to witness. The mornings in general are simply divine. The quiet, the stirring of the birds from their nests, and the glorious splash of colors across the horizon. Golds and reds, a painting across the sky, as if the canvas of the heavens was aflame. Everything it reached out to touch, coming alive.

The coffee was bitter against his tongue in contrast. The combination a blissful moment that he drank in from his stance on his porch. It was the first day of the Spring Semester. An exciting day.

Henry was filled with anticipation. He loved the fresh faces, the air of possibilities flowing around everyone. Weeks in that would wane, but for the time being the energy was electric. His first class of the day was his favorite, Creative Writing II, easing into the rigorous day of being an Advanced English Professor. A fresh batch of students, for a fresh perspective on creative ideas. 

Sometime later he strolled into his classroom taking in the new setup. The university had done some renovations over the summer. His room smelled like fresh paint and new furniture. He hadn’t cared for the renovation plans, but the new color scheme was supposed to encourage positive learning vibes. Or something along those lines. The room did seem livelier though, with its new vibrant hues of green and blue. They had gone for a modern aesthetic, with shapes and bright colors. It didn’t particularly matter, as long as it didn’t distract from his lectures. 

As luck would have it, they had not changed his desk. He had requested them not to but had not held out too much hope that they would listen. The worn oak wasn’t necessarily appealing to the eye, but it was comfortable and familiar. It had a life to it, history. Henry hadn’t wanted to part with it. Teaching for as many years as he had, he had grown attached to things like that ugly old desk. The grooves and dents in its finish were something to cherish. Years of hard work told a story on its surface.

The door to the classroom swung open not long after Henry had settled his things onto his desk. His leather bag resting against the side, as he perched against the front of it, ready to greet his first students of the day. Students streamed in, their eyes tired for such an early morning class. Beneath that he saw eagerness there too. He offered a hello to each of them in turn as they took a copy of his syllabus and found their seats. As the door closed on the last student, he checked his watch. 

“Good morning, and welcome to Creative Writing II, I am Professor Wakefield. Today we’ll be going over the syllabus. We will also go around and hear from each of you. When I get to your name on the class list, you will go over your take on the assignment I sent out early last week. The topic, ‘Why you value creative writing.’ If you did not prepare for this in advance, I advise you to come up with something compelling, quickly.”

One of the last syllabus’ was clutched in his large hands, the paper made a pleasant crisp noise as he dove into the structure and expectations of his class. His train of thought was interrupted when the door burst open suddenly, his eyes snapped up in irritation. She stumbled in, looking flustered and exhausted, her breath coming fast as if she had run all the way. Her chest heaved. He dared not drag his eyes down past her slender neck where his peripheral could see her top was a little too small and her breasts were practically spilling out. His eyes were bastards though and betrayed him. He glanced down briefly. The temptation had been too much. One moment all he needed to take in the forbidden sight of her plump exposed cleavage. He clenched his fist at his side. His cock twitched in his slacks just imagining how her breasts would overflow his hands. He quickly snapped his eyes back up to an appropriate and professional place, a deep frown hiding his thoughts. _You sick bastard, she’s your student._ He needed to get laid.

“I’m so sorry,” She gasped, dropping her bag in a heap at the nearest desk. She slid into her seat, ducking her head. Her black-brown hair had been hastily pulled into a messy bun atop her head. Her slumped shoulders evidence enough that she wanted to disappear and be ignored. Her eyes flicked up for a moment, the pools of green drawing him into their depths. It was only a second, but it was enough. Swallowing thickly, he shoved the flutter in his gut away. He hadn’t wanted her to look away. He wanted to explore the depths in those eyes. An old soul inhabited her body and he wanted nothing more than to learn her story. What the hell was wrong with him? He didn’t think like this about his students, he was a professional. 

“I do not tolerate tardiness in my class, Miss?” He regained his composure, his tone harsh as he waited for her to offer her name. She hesitated, taken back by the encounter. “Edwards.” Her response clipped, barely looking up. 

He glanced down at the class list on my desk, “Edwards...ah, yes, Sabrina Edwards. Well, Miss Edwards, I will expect you to be promptly on time for the future. This may be a fun English credit for some of you, but I take it quite seriously.” His brow was low, a firmness laced in his deep voice. Each student took his words in as he scanned the room.

Miss Edwards nodded discreetly. Satisfied he got his point across he crossed the room in stride and dumped the extra syllabus he had been holding on her desk. Towering over her, he made a grave mistake. He peered down, his eyes traipsing down her lithe neck and tumbling towards the opening in her shirt. Her chest still rose heavily from her rush to class, and his throat went dry.

It’s amazing what can transpire in the blink of an eye. The feelings that can overwhelm you, only to be battered back before anyone notices. Henry cleared his throat. “Before you rudely interrupted, Miss Edwards, we were going over the syllabus and my expectations for this class. Now,” He returned to addressing the class, “You have three major creative works to write throughout this class. You will be graded on length, structure, creativity, imagery, as well as how well you capture your audience. I expect your first topic to be chosen by the end of the week. My email and office hours can be found at the top of the syllabus. Be sure to email me your topic by Friday.” Their bodies shifted in their seats as they digested what they were diving right in. Most students joined his class expecting an easy grade, and most of those students were sorely disappointed. 

“Now, we’ll hop into your assignment, you’ll stand and express to your peers. Why do you value Creative Writing?” A smile spreads across his chiseled face, his teeth flashing. This assignment was easily his favorite part of the first day of class. He preferred it to any other ice breaker. Some of the students would give half-assed answers. It was common for students to procrastinate such an early assignment. This first assignment was important though, it helped him discern the serious writers from the ones just looking to skate by. There were always a few who would remind him why he chose to teach in the first place. He looked forward to nurturing those young minds, to shape them towards a creative future. He truly loved his job.

—

If she could have sunk any further into her seat and disappeared, she would have. Her initial excitement for this class had been quickly stifled. She had heard the Professor was phenomenal. His classes had come highly recommended. She had wanted so badly to make a good impression. She had even set an alarm to wake up early enough to put herself together. But as with everything else in her life, nothing ever seemed to go the way she wanted it to. Rose had been up half the night fussing. Cory, like always had been no help. When he had woken from his place on the couch, he had checked his phone and promptly left with barely a goodbye. Where to? Who fucking knows? He was always off somewhere, drinking, partying, or simply avoiding the responsibilities he had so carelessly left for her. Just the thought of him lately set her blood to boiling.

Being a mother at twenty had never been in Sabrina’s plans. She had considered an abortion early on. Cory was a sweet talker though and had talked her out of it. She had been so stupid, so naive, and so in love with him at the time. Now she couldn’t imagine her life without Rose, but her idiotic choices still weighed on her. Mostly her choice to put her trust in the wrong person.

She hadn’t meant to get lost in her thoughts, another mistake on her list for the morning. His cross voice interrupted her thoughts.

“Miss Edwards, since you were the last to grace us with your presence, I see it only fitting that you should be the first to share your response to the assignment.” His baritone voice rolled over her skin. Gooseflesh danced across her arms. Even in his irritation she couldn’t help but admire the way his voice warmed her. She shivered; from the humiliation, and from the way his voice tantalized her senses. She dared to look up from beneath her long lashes, her cheeks flushed. His grey eyes were the color of a stormy sky, rimmed with black, they were fierce and intimidating. She wouldn’t shy from him in this though, she wouldn’t be bullied. She had prepared for this assignment. Even though the lack of sleep and Rose’s fussing, she had completed it to her satisfaction. She had gone a little overboard, completing more than just the one paragraph required. Though in his opinion of her already, she knew he doubted her. To him she was just another flippant kid, partying it up, and looking for the easiest grade possible. Little did he know, she was anything but.

From within her bag, she retrieved the paper she had written and rewritten a dozen times. She had gotten carried away, but she always seemed to do that with her writing. How was she supposed to encapsulate what creative writing meant to her in so many words? His eyes still fixated on her; his brow quirked. She stood shakily and cleared her throat. She wouldn’t let her nerves get the better of her. With a deep breath, she opened her mouth and returned his stare. Her eyes challenged him.

“How can one truly grasp the value and importance in creative writing or creative thought? To each person, the meaning is as unique as their fingerprints. Everyone, whether they realize it or not, was at one point in time touched by creative work.

“Maybe it was the small child, tucked up onto a couch watching their favorite show. Or maybe it's someone in the audience of their first Broadway show. Or perhaps it was just a faded memory of a warm lap and a bedtime story. There are countless scenarios or places to be touched by someone else’s creative work.

“It’s not so much the written words that we value, but the moments and memories they create simultaneously. We remember the way they make us feel, the emotions it conjures alongside it. We remember the tears, we remember the hope, we remember the bliss of release as it touches someplace deep inside us, never to be forgotten.

“So, in conclusion, my value in creative writing is not the creative at all. It's that my writing might be a part of someone’s fond memory or moment. I want to inspire emotion and feelings that stick around long after my work has passed from their eyes.”

She sat down too fast, anxiety making the blush on her face darken. She glanced sideways, peaking at her peers, hoping the next person would be called promptly so they wouldn’t dwell on her response. She hadn’t realized just how intimate her response had turned out until she was reading it aloud. She had most certainly overdone it. 

When the next person wasn’t called right away, she dared look in his direction. His legs crossed in front of him, his arms crossed too. His imposing frame made the desk he sat on look small by comparison. His dress shirt strained against his toned arms. His lips were tugged into the most beautiful smile, her heart skipped. He was smiling at her now, what the hell? The moment shattered too quickly, the next person directed to stand and speak.

Most of the other responses were considerably shorter, and before she knew it they were dismissed. She couldn’t stuff her things into her bag fast enough, her emotions were all over the place. The last thing she needed was to embarrass herself further.

“Miss Edwards, a moment?” His voice cut through her speedy departure plans. Everyone else filed out chattering. The room quickly became too quiet. She shouldered her bag and shifted uncomfortably.

“Yes?” She stared out the window at the courtyard just beyond, biting her lip. Why was it so difficult to look at him? _Because you keep trying to get lost in his eyes, you romantic sop._

“You caught me off guard today, I do hope you make a habit of that. However, do not make a habit of being tardy.” He now sat behind his desk; his hands clasped in front of him. Her gaze was drawn away from the window. She had not expected him to admit she had surprised him.

Her inquisitive gaze took him in. His hair reminded her of something out of a show she’d watched once, set in the early 1900s, a truly classic look. Longer on top, slicked back just enough to look purposeful, while the sides were much shorter. It suited him well, in a romance novel cover, sort of way. It was dark in color, not brown exactly, more of a deep auburn with brown mixed in, with some grey threading through at his temples. He had a sharp jaw shadowed by a short beard that hugged his face in all the right places. The beard was a brighter red than his hair. Nothing too burly, just enough that it wasn’t stubble. He knew how to take care of it. Lines at the corners of his eyes told her he was probably older than he looked. Thick brows framed his face, making his stone-colored eyes that much more striking. It was fitting that her inspection to end with his eyes. Like her favorite kind of weather, she could get lost there.

She didn’t realize she had been staring. Her writer's brain was always trying to put words to all the details around her. Professor Wakefield was exactly the hero she’d write into one of her stories. Her mouth twitched as she put that thought away for later.

He cleared his throat, drawing her out of her reverie. How long had she been staring at him? Her lip was raw from nibbling on it. A strange look flashed across her face, gone too quickly for her to discern it. It was as if her appraisal stirred something in him.

She tucked a stray lock of hair that had slipped her bun, behind her ear, glancing down at her feet. “I’ll do my best to be on time next time, I’m not the kind of person who is usually late.”

“Good. I’ll look forward to your prompt choice. Enjoy the rest of your day, Miss Edwards.” His eyes didn’t meet hers as he dismissed her. His eyes were turned towards the window, where her gaze had been earlier. She glanced out the window, it was still uncomfortably hot outside; it wouldn’t start to cool down for another month or so. The heat rising off the pavement was visible, even from the second story of his classroom. She sighed, more to herself than out loud. She left him then, to his thoughts. Silently escaping the tension of that room.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for making it this far! I hope you've enjoyed chapter two, and meeting Professor Wakefield. Comments & input is much appreciated.


	3. Three

**Three**

IF SHE HAD A NICKLE for every time Cory let her down, she wouldn’t be struggling quite so hard right now. That much was certain. He was supposed to have picked up Rose from daycare since Sabrina had a class that ran late clear across campus. Cory didn’t have any classes late in the day, so it should have been no problem. It’s easy to imagine Sabrina’s frustration when her phone rang, thirty minutes past pickup time.

“Miss Edwards, this is Connie calling from Little Hands Campus Child Care. No one has come to retrieve little Rose yet.” The woman on the phone paused, clearly not happy that she was stuck at work still.

“I’m so sorry, Connie! Rose’s dad was supposed to be picking her up today.”

“I understand, Miss Edwards, but seeing as he is not here and we can not reach him, I’m calling you. We have a very strict pickup policy, and I am sure you are aware that you are charged extra for every five minutes we have to keep her after pickup time.”

“Yes, I am aware.” Sabrina huffed, “I am a good twenty-minute walk from you, but I will be there as quick as I can.”

“Thank you, Miss Edwards, we will see you soon.”

_Shit._ Sabrina pinched the bridge of her nose as the call disconnected. Without any prompting, her brain did the math in her head, adding the late pickup fee to the usual childcare bill. _Double shit._ She did not have the extra wiggle room for this sort of thing. Cory was seriously on her shit list now. Where the hell was he?

Hoisting her bag onto her shoulder, she quickly darted towards the daycare. Even with a rush in her step, it was going to be a twenty-minute walk, campus was huge. As she rushed in her daughter’s direction, she tried to ring Cory. No answer. Straight to voicemail. Sabrina wanted to scream. She didn’t know how much more of this she could tolerate.

She raced across campus, the afternoon sun beating down on her. Her hair down her back clung to her shoulders, her neck dripping with perspiration. She reached up to tie it back, lifting it off her neck. Her baby hairs stuck to her sticky skin. She was looking down only briefly, still working her tired body towards the daycare.

A shadow crossed in front of her, too quickly for her to dodge. She slammed into a brick wall of a person. The pavement came up to meet her, she went down hard. Falling backward and landing with a painful thump. Her bag flew off her shoulder, the contents spilling across the grass. Her breath left her body as she landed, leaving her gasping and shocked. The sun blinded her, she squinted up at who she had collided with.

“Fuck, I am so sorry!” Came a deep voice from above her. A voice that was hard to forget. A voice that had haunted her dreams the night before. “Miss Edwards, are you okay?” He asked, towering over her. He crouched down, his immaculate slacks ill-suited for sidewalk traipsing. His knees were immediately covered in dirt. His large hand engulfed her arm as he looked her over. Feeling dazed, it took her a moment to collect herself.

“Professor Wakefield?” She winced. How was she so lucky to have a collision with someone, least of all her impossibly handsome Creative Writing Professor, on the one day she didn’t have a moment to spare?

“Shit, are you hurt?” He rasped, running his hands over her, checking for injuries. His hands were like hot coals against her already scorching skin. Her chest rising and falling in quick succession, she felt his touch awaken something deep inside her.

“I’m fine, really.” She finally squeaked out, lifting a hand to brush some of her hair that hadn’t made it into her ponytail away from her face.

Another expletive left his mouth. He snatched her hand, to examine the scrape on her palm. His hands were soft and rough in all the right places. He turned her palm this way and that, hissing through his teeth. He stole her other hand up from the pavement, holding both of them in his grasp. The heels of her palms were bleeding and dirty.

“We need to get you cleaned up.”

“It’s fine, I’ll be fine.” She loathed to pull away, his touch sending electricity jolting through her skin. Her heart hammered away in her chest. She moved to stand, his hand moving to her elbow to help her up.

“Please, allow me to make up for my bumbling, I can walk you to the nurse.” He offered, finally catching her eyes.

Their eyes locked, his hand still resting on her elbow. They were incredibly close to each other, she could smell his cologne, and it was intoxicating. She had to crane her neck to look up at him, he was so much taller than her, easily over six feet. A stark contrast to her five foot four.

Her phone rang from the grass where it had tumbled out of her bag, along with all her books and notebooks. It broke up whatever connection had locked them in place. She hadn’t realized she had been holding her breath until she released it. She didn’t make it to her phone in time. It was her turn to curse as the call went to voicemail. The caller ID reading “Little Hands.”

“I appreciate the offer, but I am in a hurry.” She choked out, shoving her things back into her bag as quickly as she could. Her bloody hands smearing.

“Sabrina.”

She stopped, the tears breaking free from her eyes. Had he noticed the caller ID and her immediate frantic reaction?

“My car is just over there; do you need a ride? Would be much faster than walking, and I owe you for flattening you out on the quad.”

She paused long enough to look at him again, swiping the runaway waterworks from her cheeks. Deciding to swallow her pride, she responded with a weak smile, “Thank you, that would be great.”

—

It should have been awkward, getting bulldozed by your professor and then receiving a ride from him. Butterflies tumbled rampantly in his belly. Her hands had stopped bleeding, but she winced as she picked up her bag. Professor Wakefield pretended not to notice, but his clenched jaw gave him away.

His car wasn’t far. He had been on his way to his car when they had collided. He unlocked it and graciously opened the passenger door for her to step in. She looked surprised by his choice of vehicle. He chuckled to himself, he loved his 90’s Jeep Cherokee in its fire engine red color.

He settled behind the wheel, while out of the corner of his eye he watched her admire the interior. “I love your Jeep,” She whispered, tracing the classic dash which only had a slot for cassette tapes.

He smiled sideways at her as he started the engine. “It was my first car, bought it off a family friend and spent years restoring it.” He patted the dash affectionately, “She’s been one of the few constants in my life.”

Their eyes locked, his lips turned up in a boyish grin. His smile was infectious, and she found herself grinning right back. “Where to?” He inquired, not wanting to allude to having seen her phone.

“Um—just drop me over near the business building.” She glanced away, pretending to examine her injured hands. He wasn’t sure why she didn’t want to just tell him she needed to pick up her kid.

—

She should have just told him the truth. She couldn’t even be sure why she didn’t. He was just her professor, it should have mattered. But a big part of her didn’t want his growing opinion of her to be tainted by her being a young struggling mother. People either felt sorry for her, or they judged her. She didn’t want to see his smile from a moment ago replaced with pity or worse.

She settled back into her seat when he just nodded and put the car in motion. In a matter of five minutes, navigating small campus roads he parked in front of the business building. The colorful sign for Little Hands Campus Child Care was just two buildings over. He opened his mouth to say something, but his words died on his tongue.

“Thank you, I really appreciate the lift.” She jumped out, her hand on the door to shut it quickly.

“I can wait here until you’re finished, and then patch up your hands with my first aid kit in the back.” She hesitated, every part of her being wanted to accept his offer. Just imaging him touching her again body ablaze. Her hands were uncomfortable, and the obvious dirt in the cuts wasn’t good. Her phone rang again from inside her bag. The temptation would have to wait, her priority was Rose.

“No worries, thank you again.” And she was gone, in a flurry of her ponytail. She made a show of dodging into the business building. She waved as she entered, waiting until he had pulled away and disappeared before she quickly exited and dashed to her daughter’s daycare.

—

He should have just minded his own business and gone on with his evening. Which usually consisted of a quiet drive home, takeout dinner, and a glass of wine with a book. Unless he wanted some mindless time, in which he would throw on some random competition show from Netflix.

Tonight though, he found himself pulling away from that curb only to stop around the corner, where he could still see the entrance to “Little Hands.” He was certain anyone exiting wouldn’t see him. He told himself he was just making sure she was okay, which he was. Truth be told, he was also curious. He hadn’t pegged Sabrina as a young mom. He had pegged her completely wrong from the moment she’d stumbled late into his class. Had she been late because of her kid? He felt like a real asshole if that was the case. Though, who's to say it was her kid? Maybe it was her younger sibling… That was probably unlikely, as the campus childcare was exclusive to students only. His mind was running circles.

She came out of the childcare building five minutes later, a diaper bag over her shoulder along with her school bag, and an adorable little girl balanced on her opposite hip. The little one gnawed on her hand and stared at Sabrina as if she was the most important person on the planet.

A feeling tightened in his chest, and he struggled to swallow. In the next moment, he was driving away, to spend his night alone. Where he would not think about the way Sabrina and her daughter had made him feel. Old feelings surfacing was the last thing he needed right now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Things are really moving along now, I promise it gets juicy soon! I hope you're enjoying it this far. Comments & input are greatly appreciated.


	4. Four

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My goodness, you're still here!? I'm flattered beyond words! I do hope you're enjoying the story so far. Please comment or leave kudos <3

**Four**

CORY WAS DODGING HER calls. He hadn’t come home either. _He better be dead_. Sabrina was fuming. After a day of classes, a rather jarring run-in with Professor Wakefield, being nearly half an hour later to pick up Rose, and then a fifteen-minute walk to her apartment—Sabrina was exhausted. When she’d finally gotten back to her place, she’d taken care of feeding Rose, fixing herself something, settled Rose down, and attempted homework. She grit her teeth in frustration.

Having no attention span for her homework, it was better that she patched herself up. All she’d managed upon getting home was washing her hands. She had a first aid kit under her bathroom sink. It was rather sparse, but she at least had some peroxide. She scrubbed her hands as best she could and sat on the sink while she doused her palms in peroxide. Her cuts bubbled and she clenched her teeth against the sting. It wasn’t the worst pain in the world, she’d certainly survive, but she’d been wearing her emotions on her sleeve lately. Exhaustion and stress will do that to a person. Sabrina wasn’t sure how much more she could take, and classes had only just started.

Hours later, Sabrina woke to the sound of the lock on the door springing free, and the door creaking on its hinges. She cracked her eyes, realizing she had dozed off on her laptop, sprawled across her bed. Her boyfriend Cory slunk across the room, coming up to lay practically on top of her. He kissed her neck, pushing her hair to the side, his hips grinding against her backside.

“God, you smell so good, Brina.” He groaned against her skin. His hand moving underneath her to cup her milk swollen breast.

“Cory, what the hell!?” She hissed angrily, shoving him away. “Where have you been? You didn’t pick up Rose from daycare today.”

His eyes were glassy, his breath reeked of alcohol. “Must have just forgotten, you know how it is.” He grabbed at her again. He tugged her hips towards him, pulling her on top of him. He buried his face between her boobs and lapped at her cleavage. “Fuck babe, the things you do to me.” He was hard beneath her, his erection pressing into her thigh.

She shoved him again, this time stumbling off the bed. His hands on her felt revolting. She was too angry for him to touch her, especially in his inebriated state. The clatter of her fall was loud and she glanced anxiously at her daughters’ crib, praying they didn’t wake her.

“That’s enough.” She whispered heatedly at him. He huffed and threw his hands behind his head, staring at the ceiling.

“You’re no fun anymore, Brina. We used to have so much fun. Now you’re so serious all the time.” He sounded so sad, and it pulled at the few strings in her heart that still loved him.

“How can you say that?” She choked. “Being a parent is serious, Cory. You would know if you acted like you gave a shit.”

“Of course, I give a shit, Brina, I’m here aren’t I?” He looked at her accusingly. “You’re always making me seem like a deadbeat, I’m just trying to have my life at the same time as this shit mess we created.”

“Shit mess…that’s a good way to refer to your daughter.” Her voice was venomous, she hated him at this moment. “Maybe it wouldn’t be such a shit mess if you stepped up once in a while and helped me.” The tears were back, and she hated him for making her cry. She cried enough as it was these days.

“Fuck you! I don’t need this negativity right now. I just wanted to come home to my hot girlfriend and have some fun. I didn’t come home to be chastised. If I wanted my mother, I’d got home to California.” He raked a hand through his messy blonde hair. She glared, the wind in her sails gone, she was too tired for this.

“Maybe you should go crash at your buddy’s place until you’re ready to talk to me like someone you care about.” Her words were even, monotone. Removing any emotion from them. How much more would he push her, before she pushed back? How much more would she tolerate? She didn’t deserve this…Rose didn’t deserve this. All she ever overheard when they were together, was fighting. That can’t be good for her development.

“Whatever,” Cory replied he spit back at her. He didn’t pack a bag, he just left. The door slammed behind him.

Rose woke with a wail, her little face scrunched up in distress. Sabrina stared at the door for a moment, wondering how this had become her life.

—

Cory hadn’t made an appearance in days, which was fine by Sabrina. It was less trouble doing everything on her own, instead of factoring him into things. It wasn’t like he was reliable anyways. Over the last few days, Sabrina had been stretched thin, and relying heavily on her mother’s help. It did make her realize how little she valued Cory, all he did was complicate things and add more stress. To be quite frank, she couldn’t think of a time that he had helped alleviate her stress load. His absence was putting things in perspective for her.

Sabrina had picked Rose up from daycare early, to have her over to her mother’s house in time for her to make her Friday evening shift. Sabrina worked a fair amount of evenings at a local bar. Serving brought in just enough extra cash for Rose’s daycare fees. It was a Back-to-School special event night, drinks were discounted, and the girls were encouraged to dress in their best ‘schoolgirl’ outfits. Sabrina wasn’t exactly thrilled about the outfit she’d chosen, but she knew it would get her the extra tips she needed to pay Rose’s late pick-up fees from the week. She’d been late picking up Rose another few days. It had just been unavoidable.

Nina opened the door with a big smile, reaching immediately for her granddaughter. “Come see Grams, baby girl!” Sabrina smiled fondly at her mother, who loved being a grandma, even if it had been unexpected. Nina was often very busy as a trauma nurse but loved to watch Rose when she could. Her mother had dark circles under her eyes and her unwashed hair was thrown into a messy bun atop her head. Her mother would never admit she was exhausted and overworked.

None of that deterred from her mother’s beauty. She had Sabrina’s hair coloring, but her eyes were a deep brown. She had deep smile lines, her mother was rarely without a smile. She never failed to be helpful in whatever way she could, she was truly an angel. Nina was one of those people that radiated kindness and compassion. It was what made her such an amazing nurse. Sabrina didn’t know what she would do without her mother.

“Thanks for watching her on such short notice, Mom. I won’t be back until well after close, so don’t wait up. I’ll just come in quietly and crash on the couch.” She handed her mother Rose’s overnight bag.

“Don’t worry about us, baby, Rosie and I will be just fine.” She nuzzled the baby girl’s little nose making her giggle.

Sabrina’s chest ached walking away. Sabrina suffered from separation anxiety when it came to Rose. Something she just had to grin and bear. Luckily Rose didn’t cry when she left them, she was too thrilled to see her Grams.

The drive to work was too quiet, the only sound her rattling old Honda, with the cracked muffler. She could have turned on the radio but found she needed the silence after the week she’d had. It would be noisy enough at work. Her bag in the passenger seat had her outfit for the night and she was already cringing. There wasn’t much she wouldn’t do for her daughter though. One way or another she’d manage the attention for the night and hopefully pocket a good amount of tips for her efforts.

The top was tight, her swollen chest straining at the seams, her cleavage practically spilling over. She tied it at her sternum and situated things as best she could. The high-waisted plaid skirt hugged her thin waist and flared at her hips. She was lucky, her active life had helped her shed her postpartum weight quite quickly. Thigh-high white socks were the final touch. She had debated between wearing Mary Janes to complete the look or her serving shoes for comfort and non-slip. Her serving shoes had won out. There was no way in hell she was going to wear anything else.

Her boss whistled at her as she came out of the backroom. Sabrina rolled her eyes at her. “Girl, you’ll be drowning in tips tonight, for sure!” Charlie chimed.

Charlie was the manager of Southside Tavern, had been for the last ten years. She was a lovely soul, with blonde hair and a bombshell body. She had taken to looking out for Sabrina ever since she gave Sabrina the job back when she found out she was pregnant. Not many employers had been willing to give a pregnant teenager a job, but Charlie had seen something in her. Sabrina would always be grateful for Charlie’s support and friendship.

“For the humiliation alone, I better be.” Sabrina snapped offering her boss a smile. Charlie threw Sabrina an apron as she clocked in.

The evening rush started to flow in. Southside Tavern was a hot spot for the local college kids, especially when drinks were half off, and the servers were dressed to theme. The rustic-themed bar was all wood and bricks, with a gorgeous back patio lit up with lights. It was cozy, with just enough fans to keep the sticky air outside at bay. If they weren’t coming in for the cheap drinks, they’d be coming in to cool off. Sabrina squared her shoulders, pushing her tits out on display, and plastered on her best smile.

—

The music was loud, but the crush of voices was louder. Milling bodies brushed against each other, and the drinks flowed freely. Sabrina already had a considerable number of tips tucked away in her apron, and she was counting her blessings hoping it was enough to cover her extra expenses.

Charlie came up behind Sabrina, and shouted over the noise, “New group just sat at table 13. Can you grab it?” Sabrina nodded, wiping her hands on the towel behind the bar.

Notepad in hand she weaved her way through the patrons, making her way to table 13. “Good evening, what can I get for you guys?” She looked up from her paper, pen in hand, and fell right into the striking grey pools of Professor Wakefield. Her heart stuttered in her chest.

His eyes trapped hers before they darted over her outfit. A flush crept up her chest and into her face. His friend or colleague next to him smiled brightly at her. Sabrina tried to focus on writing their order on her pad, not daring to look up from it, afraid she might catch her professor’s eyes again. She bit her bottom lip between her teeth, unable to control the flush that crept across her skin. He had certainly appreciated her attire, and she was both mortified and thrilled.

He hadn’t called her by name or introduced her to his companion, which would have been the professional thing to do. She was finding they were dancing very precariously on the line between professional and unprofessional with their eye contact and encounters. She wasn’t sure what to make of that, he was her professor after all. She shouldn’t even be thinking about how much she wanted him to appreciate her appearance.

—

He should have attempted to not watch her walk away, but he was failing at every turn when it came to Miss Sabrina Edwards. He found himself admiring her stunning green eyes or her smile. Then she had skipped up to their table in an outfit better suited to a bedroom fantasy than a bar and bit that sinful bottom lip of hers. Her pale skin flushing when she recognized him. His stomach fluttered when he watched her reaction to him, his cock twitching in betrayal of his usual professional nature. She was quite possibly the most divine creature he had ever laid eyes on before. He found himself wondering how her luscious hair would feel wrapped around his fingers, or how her skin might taste.

His companion brought him out of his thoughts, snapping his fingers in front of his face. “Hello? Earth to Henry, where did you go there, pal?” His friend of several decades laughed at him, wiggling his eyebrows, “Were you envisioning yourself breaking your celibacy with that spicy brunette that took our orders? Dirty old man!” His friend’s eyes were full of mischief and Henry slugged him in the shoulder.

“Shut up, Jas.” Jasper and Henry had been friends since college, getting in a fair amount of trouble together back in the day. At this point, after so long they were more like brothers than best friends. Jasper just smirked rubbing his arm in mock hurt. Why Henry didn’t just tell Jasper that that girl was his student, he couldn’t quite say, but he knew whatever subconscious reason wasn’t good. He really was a dirty old man.

“We’ll have to be sure to leave her a substantial tip, maybe with your phone number.” Jas teased him.

“The tip yes, the phone number no,” Henry said firmly his face serious.

“Oh, come on, man. You need to let loose and get your cock wet. Have you been with anyone since Jessica?” Henry looked away from his dear friend, he meant well, but Jasper’s pushing was a bit much sometimes. Even them being at the bar had been all Jasper’s idea.

Jasper was usually busy with his medical practice in Phoenix, but they made a point to get together whenever they could. Jasper was a phenomenal physical therapist with his own facility. He had worked exceptionally hard to build up his business over the last several years. It made for sporadic get-togethers, which gave Jasper more liberty to drag Henry somewhere he would rather not have been. Like Back-to-School night at the Southside Tavern. It was surprising that Sabrina was the only one of his students he had bumped into so far.

When Sabrina returned with their drinks and appetizer, she had a smile plastered on her face. It didn’t quite reach her eyes though; she was seemed to be avoiding eye contact with him. She didn’t, however, hesitate to make eye contact with Jasper. A stab of jealousy seared through Henry. What right did he have to be jealous? He didn’t have a claim here, he _couldn’t_ have a claim here.

—

Sabrina was thankful when she could step away for a moment. She was having trouble focusing when she could feel his eyes on her throughout the night. They had just been nursing their drinks, only needing refills once, content to just sit and chat with each other. They seemed very close. She just hoped they weren’t hogging one of her tables, she desperately needed as many tips as she could get. A table across from them cleared out, and she bounded over to grab her tip and stack the dishes for the busboy. Her face fell when she saw the skimpy tip awaiting her. This table had been sat for over an hour and had only left her a few dollars in change. She sighed, her eyes burning. She stuffed the sad wad of ones into her apron pocket and hurried away with some of the dirty dishes. It was a good excuse to get her off the floor for a moment.

Away from the chaos, she rushed into the ladies’ room, she needed a second. Inside, she splashed cold water on her cheeks, careful not to ruin her eye makeup. Her sad green eyes stared back at her. She felt far older than she looked, but only her eyes seemed telling.

The door slammed against the wall, some drunk girls tumbled in, laughing and giggling about something. Sabrina didn’t much care, she didn’t relate with many of the girls in her class anymore. She did envy how carefree they seemed.

Sabrina didn’t have many friends anymore. None of them wanted anything to do with her once they found out she had a kid. The friends she’d had before getting pregnant had stuck around for a little while, but quickly got bored when she couldn’t or wouldn’t go out with them. Sabrina sighed, fixing her hair, she sidestepped the girl group and exited the bathroom.

For the second time in just a few days, she slammed into someone. The force of the connection nearly smashing her into the wall behind her, but strong hands gripped her shoulders. She looked up in shock to identify the person, an apology quick on her lips when she looked up into none other than Professor Wakefield’s chiseled face. His jaw was clenched, his body still pressed against hers. Her hands had come up to his chest to brace herself, and she felt the hardness of his pecs beneath her fingers. She was holding her breath again, her heart galloping away in her chest. Her heart skipped a beat when she felt his heart pounding too. And then he did the most sinful thing imaginable, something that should have been illegal to watch…his tongue snaked out to wet his lips.

She moaned softly, drawing in a desperate breath. His hands were still firmly gripped on her shoulders. “Miss Edwards, we need to quit running into each other, in such a literal sense.”

She couldn’t help it, she laughed. She burst out laughing, throwing her head back. She couldn’t remember the last time something had genuinely made her laugh, it felt good. He chuckled too.

Neither of them moved, still pressed together, lost in their bubble frozen in time. Neither one hearing the noise from the bar around them. She shivered, realizing how close they were to one another. One of his legs practically between her thighs.

His head dipped down, catching her eyes, one of his hands moved from her shoulder to tip her chin up to him, “All jokes aside, are you alright?” Sparks shot across her skin where his fingers touched her. She nodded softly, lost in the feeling of him.

—

Up close her eyes were like gemstones, even in the low lighting from the bar’s hallway, he could see flecks of gold and black that swam amongst the jade green. They were hypnotizing, he wanted to fall into them and discover their secrets.

Her pretty pink tongue darted out, wetting her luscious lips, and he wondered what they tasted like. Her eyes darted down to his lips as if she was thinking the same thing. All self-control left his body. Before he lost the nerve and common sense could return to his body, his mouth was crashing into hers.

Her lips parted, her tongue meeting his, so warm and delicate against his demands. One hand snaked around her back, pulling her in closer, her breasts pressing into him as their hearts pounded in tandem. The mixture of bourbon on his tongue mingled with the flavor that was just her, and he groaned. His hand pressed into her back gripped her firmly, her skin hot against his palm. Their lips pressed and their tongues danced, all rational thought gone. Both of them choosing to ignore for a moment, the repercussions of their actions.

The bathroom door beside them whipped open, hitting the wall of the bathroom with excessive force. The wall rattled in protest. Sabrina and Professor Wakefield jumped apart. Sabrina had a hand to her chest, trying to calm her erratic heartbeat. They stood across from each other, both trying desperately to catch their breath. She wouldn’t meet his eyes, and his heart panged with hurt.

He ran a hand through his hair, his eyes trying but failing to catch hers. In the flurry of bodies leaving the lady’s bathroom, he lost her. In the spot where she had just been, was nothing but the memory of their kiss. A kiss that never should have happened. A kiss that was still burning on his lips. And a need that had taken up root inside him. He was at the edge of a cliff, and he knew that Sabrina Edwards would be his downfall. The thing is, he couldn’t bring himself to care.


	5. Five

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Things are really heating up. I hope you enjoy! Comments and kudos are greatly appreciated.

**Five**

HENRY STOMPED BACK TO HIS table where his best friend Jasper still sat. Jasper had managed to find himself a conversation partner while Henry was away, chatting up a cute young thing who was undoubtedly just looking for free drinks from him. Henry rubbed a hand across his bearded jaw, happy that his friend was distracted. The more distracted Jasper was the less chance he would notice any signs that Henry had lost control of himself in the back hallway of a bar.

Henry was not an irrational man; he was generally a very calculated man. He didn’t do anything without thinking through it first. Except lately, when it came to nonother than Sabrina Edwards. He couldn’t seem to think clearly at all around her. She was the worst possible distraction. _A divine distraction with a sinful mouth._

“Hey Jas, I’m going to head out. Talk later?” Henry interrupted his friend and the young woman, who was practically in Jasper’s lap. Jasper just winked at Henry over the girl’s shoulder. Henry took that as an okay, reaching into his wallet to cover his drinks. He saw the hundred there amongst his bills and didn’t even hesitate. He was sure she was still around somewhere, and he had seen her face fall when the table next to them had practically stiffed her.

Looked like Jasper and his lady friend were leaving too, their lips locked. Jasper absentmindedly threw some bills on the table before he waved and headed out of the bar, his new companion in tow. Henry admired their carefree attitudes with a smirk before he tossed his bills on the table too. One more look around the room, she was nowhere visible. He sighed, running his hand through his hair again. _Fuck._ They needed to talk about what had happened. And it wasn’t like he could talk to her about it in class on Monday. It was official, he was in deep shit.

—

“You can come out now, I just saw him leave,” Charlie called into the walk-in refrigerator. Sabrina emerged teeth chattering. “Was it necessary to nearly freeze to death in there just to avoid that handsome as hell guy?” Charlie joked, bumping her hip against Sabrina’s. “Major ‘Daddy’ vibes, if you don’t have at him, I might have to!”

“Oh my god, Charlie!” Sabrina squeaked, slapping Charlie on the arm.

“Sheesh, no need for violence baby girl. I’m only joking. He’s all yours.” She winked, sauntering off to wipe down the bar.

Sabrina groaned, heading to go collect her tips from Professor Wakefield’s table. It was almost closing, and things were starting to finally wind down. That meant, thankfully, she wasn’t in a rush now. She peered down at their table with only its one empty appetizer plate, and the half-finished second drinks. Sitting perfectly placed under the corner of the empty plate was a handful of bills. She scooped them up, counting them on her way to the till.

She stopped in her tracks partway there. Not only was there over a hundred dollars for her tip, but there was also a napkin folded in with the bills with a quickly scrawled phone number on it. Had he left her his phone number? Surely not, right?

The rest of the night closed out just fine, but the napkin with the phone number on it was like a hot coal in her pocket. She waved goodbye to Charlie across the dark parking lot as she trotted to her car. She had quickly changed into leggings and an oversized t-shirt after they’d closed up. The last thing she would dare risk is a dark parking lot while wearing next to nothing. She’d listened to enough True Crime stories to know better.

She sat in her car letting the engine warm-up. If she didn’t it would scream at her the whole drive back to her mom’s place. It was better to let it idle for a bit before she put it in drive. With her doors snuggly locked she pulled the napkin and her tips back out. She counted through her tips again. With the extremely generous tip from Professor Wakefield and his friend, she would have just enough to cover her late fees for Rose’s daycare. Just barely. It was going to be a real problem if she couldn’t figure out a way to pick up Rose on time, every time. But for the moment, she could breathe.

She then stared at the phone number. She stared at it so long it didn’t even feel real in her palm any longer. It was too late to text him or call him, surely, he wasn’t still awake. It was creeping on 3 a.m. Plus, what would she even say? ‘Hey, thanks Professor for the make-out sesh and the huge tip?’ Sabrina cringed at the thought.

Stuffing the napkin back in her pocket she shook her head. What kind of mess had she gotten herself into this time?

—

Laying on her mother’s couch, she was restless. It wasn’t so much that she preferred her own bed. Granted her mattress wasn’t much better than her mother’s couch. Her mother’s couch was a bit more comfortable if she was honest.

The room felt too hot, her skin felt sticky. The memory of her lips on Professor Wakefield’s replaying on repeat in her brain. Her hand reached up, her fingers grazed her lips. They still felt raw from his facial hair. Her core had developed a heartbeat of its own, pulsing desperately between her legs. She couldn’t remember that last time something had ignited feelings so strong in her. One hand continued to trace her lips, her eyes fluttered closed, her other hand drifted down. Across her chest, where she squeezed one of her engorged breasts, biting her lip to keep from moaning aloud. Further across her abdomen, to slide beneath the band of her sleep shorts.

Her delicate digits met her soaked petals, sliding her middle finger through her arousal. She gasped, the sensation sent shivers racing down her spine. She dipped a finger inside her heat, letting her juices coat it before she slid it out to trace her hardened nub. Her legs shook, she knew it wouldn’t take long. She hadn’t touched herself in so long. She circled her clit slowly, letting the sensation wash over her. She dipped her finger down once more, coating it in more of her wet juices, bring it back up to continue her ministrations on her sweet spot. She applied more pressure, her fingers moving more urgently. Her breath came quickly, her other hand still on her lips as she imagined he was still kissing her. Demanding more from her mouth. He had kissed her as she’d never been kissed before. Her imagination ran away with her, imagining what his mouth would do between her thighs.

Her release crashed into her, and she shuddered repeatedly as she rode the wave. Her mouth hung open and her back arched as she continued her circles on her clit. Stars sparked behind her eyelids and she whimpered. She didn’t stop until the very last spasm subsided.

Her hand stilled, her chest rising and falling rapidly trying to catch her breath. She opened her eyes to the dark room and wiped her free hand over her face. _Fuck._ She was so fucked.

—

She hadn’t called, she hadn’t texted. He had anxiously checked his phone all weekend, to no avail. He tried not to be frustrated, but he was in a precarious situation. What if she felt like he had assaulted her? What if she told someone? He could get fired. He barely slept all weekend as his anxiety ran away with him.

He arrived at class on Monday looking far from his usual self. His dress shirt was wrinkled and left unbuttoned at his neck, no tie, no vest, and his hair looked just slept in. Everyone else had already arrived by the time he strode in. He threw his bag onto his chair haphazardly before he turned to address the class. He looked over the room, skipping over Sabrina Edwards as quickly as he could. Thankfully she wasn’t looking at him, she was gazing intently at her notebook in front of her.

“Good morning everyone,” He said gruffly, clearing his throat. “I received all of your prompts over the weekend, and those of you who I had issues with already know about it. Today we’ll be discussing ‘Capture’,” He wrote the word on the whiteboard. “Or in other words, the art of capturing your reader's attention. This is one of the most important parts of any creative work. If you can’t capture your reader’s attention, they will not continue devouring your work.” He turned and looked out at his class, his eyes falling on Sabrina. She was looking at him now with her big doe eyes. There was something there beneath the surface, an expression he couldn’t quite read. Was it fear, anger, or desire? It was as if her eyes were on fire, but what did they burn for?

“Now I mentioned last week that this semester, you will have three major works due. Each of these major works will be focused around the prompt you chose. Each of these major works will also focus on key aspects of story building. Your final work will combine these three works for your final grade. There will be no exam, your exam grade will be on your completed work.”

Many of the students groaned or whispered to their neighbors. Very few looked thrilled or even impartial to the news. One student raised his hand, “Yes, Mr. Bennet.”

“Is it too late to change our prompt?” Mr. Bennet asked, his face sheepish.

“I will allow one, and only one prompt change, but it has to be emailed to me and approved before the end of this week. After that, there will be no prompt changes allowed.” Mr. Bennet sighed with relief. Professor Wakefield held in a chuckle.

The class flew by as he got into his groove, he truly loved his job. Creative Writing is one of his favorite classes to teach. He focused very hard on that thought, and not the thought of getting fired or worse…Sabrina Edwards soft delicate lips. Most of the class participated in the discussion and before he knew it he was dismissing them.

He had great participation through the morning’s class. His chest tightened, the one person he wished had participated, hadn’t. She had taken notes the entire time, but she had barely looked up from her notebook. She had sat there, head down, chewing on her bottom lip. It had taken a great amount of focus to not stare at her teeth working at her sinful lips.

“Miss Edwards, I’d like a word with you please, regarding your prompt.” He spoke firmly, erasing the board rather than look at her.

—

She had been quickly packing her things away only to be stopped abruptly by his demand. Her hands stilled hallway to her bag and her head snapped up. She eyed him warily, her belly churning.

She sat there waiting, as everyone else filtered out of the room. When everyone was gone she stood shakily, her bag over her shoulder, and her notebook clutched to her chest. She approached as much as she dared. He turned from the board to face her. His brow was low, his eyes taking her in. She shifted nervously from foot to foot, feeling exposed under his gaze.

“I had hoped you would call or text me over the weekend so we could discuss what happened.” He spoke softly, stepping closer. His firm tone from moments ago gone.

“I—I’m sorry,” She stammered, looking anywhere but at him. “What was there to say?”

His face fell, “If you want to report me, I will understand. I should not have taken advantage of you. That is not like me, at all. I apologize if I made you uncomfortable.”

Her eyes lurched to him, her mouth parted, “I’m not going to report you!” She wasn’t sure what she had expected him to say, but suggesting that he had somehow taken advantage of her, was not it.

“I kissed you back…I’m just as much to blame here.” Her cheeks bloomed with color, remembering how she’d touched herself later to the thought of their kiss. How she’d touched herself again the next day to the same thoughts. How she was aching just being alone with him in this room right now.

Heat flushed through her body, her eyes dropped involuntarily to his lips. Her hands gripped her notebook tighter. She wanted to run her hands through his hair and pull him down to her mouth. She wanted his body pressed against hers again. She could barely think of anything else but wanting more. He’d touched her and it was like she’d been awoken from a deep slumber. The feelings churning inside her made the world a little more vibrant.

—

His eyes darkened, seeing that heat return to her gaze. He could see it now for what it was, desire. He felt the same thing, and he salivated wanting to taste her again. She had tantalized his thoughts all weekend, he had struggled to think of anything else.

The air in the room was thick with tension. He longed to reach out and touch her. Whatever was between them was magnetic and hard to ignore. They had moved closer to one another without noticing, only a few inches between them. Her neck was tipped back, her eyes roving over his face. He breathed deeply, drawing her in. She smelled like lilac and tea, a heady aroma he wanted to bask in.

He dared reach out for her, drawing her closer with barely a graze on her hip. She stepped into him, her hand reaching up to touch his bearded face. His eyes asked her permission, she licked her lips in response. He was lost then, and there would be no going back.

When their lips connected this time it was softer, slower. More exploration than demand. But the hunger was enough to eat them both alive. Her hands fisted in his hair, her hips coming up to press into him.

“Careful, Miss Edwards, or I’ll be tossing my gentlemanly ways and having you across my desk,” He growled against her lips.

She bit his lower lip between her teeth and tugged him closer. His cock strained against his slacks, begging to be set free and have its way with the beautiful brunette before him. He had half a mind to make good on his threat and throw her across his desk. He could smell her arousal. His mouth watered at the thought of burying his face between her thighs and tasting her succulent center.

Today wouldn’t be the day for that as fate would have it. The door to his classroom opened, voices sounding in the hallway outside. For the second time, they were interrupted and forced to spring apart. This time Sabrina’s eyes found his before she darted from the room. There hadn’t been regret there, only lust. Pure, heated, lust. They were playing a dangerous game neither of them could seem to resist.


	6. Six

**Six**

SABRINA’S LUNCH BREAK LATER THE same day was spent with a half-eaten sandwich and her phone in front of her. She’d been chewing on her thumb gathering the nerve to text him. Him being Professor Hot Mouth, Professor Throw Me Over Your Desk And Fuck Me Stupid. She giggled to herself. She likely looked like a crazy person, sitting alone with her sandwich laughing at nothing. She had chosen to forgo the Dining Hall for lunch and eat outside, despite the heat of the day.

She sat on a bench just underneath her favorite large oak tree, its branches offering just enough shade from the beating sun. It was a comforting place to hang out, she had been sitting under this tree since she’d found out she was expecting a baby. Now it was where she came to think or just take time for herself amid her crazy days.

Mind back to her predicament, she needed to text him something, if she didn’t he would get the wrong idea. What did she even hope would come of this situation? Just a hot forbidden fuck with her teacher? She wasn’t sure. She hadn’t exactly made any rash decisions since Rose. Not to mention, how much he intrigued her. There was a connection there, beneath the surface that felt so familiar as if their souls might recognize each other.

She decided to go with something safe, safe was good, safe was smart.

**Sabrina: Could we meet to discuss my prompt?**

She didn’t sign her name, but she figured it was safe to assume not many students had his personal phone number. She continued to chew the tip of her thumb while bouncing her leg. She waited what felt like ages with no response.

She checked her watch and groaned, she had to get going. She stuffed her phone in her pocket and packed up her sandwich. She would save the rest for later. Or she’d forget about it and it would be her dinner. Either way, she had to get to her next class.

Her phone rang from her pocket. She paused and pulled it out checking the caller ID. It was her daughter’s daycare. They were calling her in the middle of the day, that was not a good sign.

“Hello,” Sabrina answered.

“Hi, Rose’s mom?” The woman on the phone asked kindly.

“This is her, is Rose okay?” Sabrina asked already turning in the direction of the daycare instead of her next class.

“I’m afraid I’m calling because Rose has a fever, you’ll need to come to pick her up.” Sabrina sighed, the hatch closing above her metaphorical head. She had known this would happen eventually. Tiny immune systems and a cesspool of germs don’t mix well. Wishful thinking, she had hoped Rose would hold out a little longer until she had a solid backup plan. That was a naïve thought.

The reality was that Rose was sick, and Sabrina would have to miss class until Rose was better. Unless by some miracle she could get her mother’s help.

Sabrina still hadn’t heard from Cory, but that didn’t surprise her. She would do the right thing and let him know his daughter was sick, even if he didn’t answer her call.

As it happened, Cory did answer her call. She hid her shock well when the line connected and his voice filled the other end.

“Rose is sick, I am headed to pick her up from daycare.” Sabrina huffed through the line, her feet at a brisk face towards her daughter. Cory didn’t respond on the other end, and Sabrina repeated herself, “Did you hear that, Cory? Your daughter is sick.”

“I heard you, Brina.” He sighed heavily into the phone, “What do you expect me to do about it? I’m not a doctor.”

“I expect you to care, Cory. Fuck. You know what, don’t worry about it. I’ve got it covered.” Her voice was strained, she was so angry.

“Okay, cool. I can’t afford to get sick right now anyways.”

“Yo—you can’t _afford_ to get sick, excuse me?” Sabrina saw red, her eyes blurring. He kept talking, but she had already pulled the phone away from her ear. She hit the end button with too much force and heard her phone screen protest under the pressure.

She wanted to rage, she wanted to scream. She wanted to throw her phone against a wall and rip her hair out. But she did none of those things. She threw a text message at her boss, letting her know she’d be out until either she found someone to watch Rose or Rose was better. With that she tossed her phone into her bag and kept moving her legs, one foot in front of the other. No one was going to save her, she was always going to have to save herself.

Her bag buzzed, her phone getting a text message. She ignored it, she had had enough of Cory, and if it was Charlie it was only an ‘Okay.’

Her mind was still reeling from Cory, what kind of father didn’t care if his kid was sick? She needed to talk to her mom, she needed to start considering the serious possibility of life without Cory.

Her heart hurt. Sabrina had grown up without a father, he hadn’t wanted anything to do with her either. Sabrina’s mom had done it all on her own. Sabrina didn’t even know what her father looked like. He had left so early on there weren’t any pictures.

She had never wanted that for Rose, she had wanted Rose to have a father. She had wanted Rose to have a family. Cory had promised her that…Cory had promised a lot of things. Somehow she had ended up in the same shitty situation her mother had been in all those years ago.

—

When she reached the child care building, she could hear Rose wailing as soon as she walked through the door. The young woman at the front desk offered her a weak smile and waved her through. One of the attendants was rocking a screaming Rose just down the hall, outside the room of the other infants.

Sabrina couldn’t scoop her daughter into her arms fast enough. Her tiny body was burning up. “Shhh, Mommy’s here, baby girl.”

She clutched her daughter to her chest, cradling her little head against her shoulder. Her daughter’s cries continued, but her tiny hands fisted in Sabrina’s shirt. “Thank you for calling me.”

“Of course, Miss Edwards. I’ll go fetch her bag for you.” Sabrina nodded. She didn’t wait long, rocking and bouncing Rose in the hallway, trying whatever she could to soothe her daughter.

The walk to her apartment was heart-wrenching, Rose screamed the entire way there. Sabrina had been very fortunate up until this point, and Rose hadn’t gotten sick all summer. Everything in her heart was breaking for her baby girl, she hated to see Rose hurting.

With some fever reducer and a visit to Rose’s doctor, Sabrina did her best to make Rose comfortable. The doctor’s advice was to monitor her fever and let her nurse as much as she wanted. Sabrina would sleep when she was dead, apparently.

—

Rose being sick, and Sabrina’s mother being too busy at the hospital, meant no classes or work for Sabrina. Sabrina didn’t have the time or energy to think about the repercussions of that, her focus was Rose. Managing her daughter’s fever was the easy part, managing her other generic cold symptoms was something else entirely. She imagined her neighbors were thrilled with the racket Rose was making almost constantly.

Sabrina was only managing to sleep when Rose dosed off for short stints of time. Usually propped on Sabrina’s chest or while nursing. The sleep deprivation was so severe Sabrina hadn’t pulled her phone back out of her school bag. She didn’t answer any calls or texts. She had completely forgotten about her text to Professor Wakefield.

It was well into the weekend before Sabrina and Rose both managed any decent sleep. Rose was finally starting to recover, Sabrina cried with relief the first time she realized they had slept for a few hours.

By the time Sabrina had enough energy to shower and clean away the remnants of the sleep-deprived week it was Sunday night. She had missed out on a week's worth of work, and several of her core classes. She had emailed a few people asking for their notes, but no one had gotten back to her. The weight of that settled on her shoulders while she was toweling her hair dry. She sat on her bathroom toilet and cried. This was her life now, this was her foreseeable future too.

How was she supposed to make this work? If her grades started slipping, she would lose her scholarship. If she didn’t have enough attendance, she would lose her scholarship. Without her scholarship, she would be forced to drop out until she could potentially wrangle some grants or financial aid.

She was so fucking tired.

—

He jumped when her text came through. Scrambling for his phone like a teenage boy. He knew it was her, it had to be.

**Sabrina: Could we meet to discuss my prompt?**

He grinned down at his phone. Calming himself with a deep breath, he added her number to his phone before he dared respond. He didn’t want to scare her away, when whatever was happening between them was so fresh. What was the rule guys had about texting back? Three days? No, he wouldn’t wait that long, that was ridiculous.

**Henry: Great idea, when are you free?**

Hours went by with no response. Then several days. Henry was frustrated and confused, had she ghosted him? After asking to meet? That didn’t seem likely, but he was having trouble thinking rationally. Was she toying with him? Anger bubbled up inside him and he held fast to that. His career was not a game, he didn’t make a habit of taking unwarranted risks with his future. Was it just some sordid fantasy for her?

He found himself snapping at students, his fuse unbelievably short. Friday afternoon he had had enough, when he was finished for the day he decided to skip over to Southside Tavern and confront Sabrina at work. She likely worked Fridays regularly, so there was a good chance he would catch her there.

By the time he parked the dinner rush was in full swing, slowly shifting towards the evening crowd. The place was packed, being a great place for students to blow off steam after a long week. He scanned the bar, and the other servers weaving through the crowded tables. He thought at one point he spotted her ponytail, but when the girl turned around it wasn’t Sabrina.

Henry ran a hand through his hair. A woman approached him, wiping her hands on a towel she had slung over her shoulder. “Can I help you, sir?” She smiled sweetly at him, cocking her blonde head to the side. She took him in, head to toe, a hand on her hip.

Henry rubbed his jaw apprehensively, “Uh, yeah…yes.” What was he doing here? What professional reason did he have to be looking for one of his students at a bar on Friday night? Not a good one…that’s for sure. “On second thought, no. Thank you. I was supposed to be meeting someone here, but I don’t see them.” He turned to leave, “Have a great night.”

The woman stopped him in his tracks when the next words left her mouth, “She’s not in tonight. Hasn’t been in all week.”

Henry turned back to the blonde shocked. “Is she alright?”

“She’s fine, just a family matter. I can tell her you stopped by?” She offered, “I’m Charlie, by the way, I’m the manager here.”

She reached out her hand and he shook it, “Henry. Great to meet you. Please tell her I stopped by.”

—

Charlie watched him leave before ducking to the back office. She pulled out her phone and texted Sabrina.

**Charlie: Hey, hope Rose is doing a bit better. The hotty from Back-to-School Night was just in here looking for you.**

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for giving this Original Work a chance. I hope you've enjoyed the first chapter! I've been writing fanfiction for the last 16 years, and I'm finally taking the leap to write something that is entirely my own. Chapters 2-5 of this work have already been written and will be uploaded as soon as I've reviewed them for errors. Reviews & feedback are greatly appreciated.


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